Finding Hope
by IAmTheRevelation
Summary: He found his hope when he was walking along a dirt road. That hope had a two year old on her hip and a machine gun on her shoulder. She was bruised from head to toe, blood splattering her body, her ebony curls matted with blood and grime, her body ravaged by hunger. What surprised him most, though, was that she was smiling.
1. Finding Hope

***Takes place in mid-Season 2***

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of its materials. I just own my OCs**

**Synopsis: He found his hope when he was walking along a dirt road. That hope had a two year old on her hip and a machine gun on her shoulder. She was bruised from head to toe, blood splattering her body, her ebony curls matted with grime and blood, her body ravaged by hunger. What surprised him most, though, was that she was smiling.**

**Chapter 1: Finding Hope.**

* * *

The atmosphere at the farm was unbelievably depressing.

Through the first of the outbreak; the first slew of disease that ravaged much of the world; the people turned, dead, or missing- that was depressing, but not the feel of today. Everybody stood with their heads down or tears streaking down their faces; the Greene family and Carl's group moping around, grieving and longing for their lost loved ones; the wails of a mother in denial of losing her beloved daughter. Carl was grieving, too- just silently. He had no tears to shed; no feelings to share with anybody but to feel himself. His tears were all gone from those they lost the weeks before to just the three days ago that Sophia's corpse limped from Hershel's barn, dirty and bloody.

He had not a tear left to give because he cried them out.

Carl wanted to get away- he couldn't take the depression that hung in their air like a thick, dark veil over the farm. It weighed on him heavily- so much that he struggled to keep his distance from everybody. They stayed inside; he gravitated outside and busied himself. They moved to the outdoors; he bound himself to a tent to read a book or scattered off to tease the baby chicks. He could go about himself and act the way that he wanted without making everybody believe he was emotionless.

Today, however, they were spread out everywhere- Daryl to the tents, his parents, Shane and Maggie and Glenn on the porch, Beth with Jimmy and Shawn near the stables, Hershel inside with Otis' wife, then T-Dog off with Andrea and Dale. They left him without a place to stray to. With the depression hanging in the air, he needed to get away. He felt smothered- his chest hurt and his heart pounded as though he were being suffocated.

"Mom, can I ask a question?" Carl asked. He peeked from around the doorjamb, hating himself for bothering his mother in such a state.

Lori managed a smile at her son. It wasn't much, but Carl was glad he had seen it. "What is it, Carl?" She motioned him over and Carl complied, sitting calmly at Lori's side. She ran her fingers through Carl's brown hair that needed a bit of a trim.

Carl smiled back. "I wanted to know if I could go for a walk."

"Carl, you know how I…" Lori started, cut off by Carl.

"Mom, I won't go far. It's just beyond those trees down there. There are gates up- tall ones- and I have a pistol just in case," Carl said. "Please- so I don't have to stay here." He looked at Lori with a look of desperation and she knew her son was smothering under their mourning. "Plus it's noon and I know what to do in the event something would happen."

Lori looked over at Rick for clarification and he nodded his head for a silent agreement, not having words to say. She smiled down at Carl who gave her a kiss on the cheek, scattering off the porch and down the dirt road, leaving a cloud of brown dust behind him where he was propelling himself so quickly.

Carl felt free after he fell into the cloak of green trees, not fearing anything. He knew that Hershel's farm was near Walker free and they were on out closer to the highway, and he wouldn't be walking that far. So, as he carried on, the feelings of depression and suffocation left him- he felt like a person again. The heat didn't matter nor did the sweltering Georgia sun- all that mattered was that he was away from them. Peace fell on him as his pale blue eyes darted about, watching a fawn run with its mother and the occasional squirrel scatter up a tree. Other than that it was peaceful.

He thought and thought as he walked. He thought about how the world worked- how gruesome the cycle of things was. Carl had been brought up a Christian- to believe in faith and trust in God. But what he saw- the corpses that littered the streets; the walking bodies that hungered for things that moved and breathed. What happened to make the dead walk the streets? What happened in faith? Carl had lost his hope a long time ago. But he was tore from his thoughts when he heard footsteps- soft ones. That sparked his interest, though- scared him, sure. His curiosity just had won the battle though.

Pistol raised and leveled, he walked the dirt road until he saw a slim body. He thought it was a Walker, but he let it walk closer and closer until he saw not a Walker, but a girl. She was young- maybe Carl's age or a bit younger. She was beaten and battered, blue like a blueberry and a dark shade of purple, from head to toe. Also, she had ebony curls that were plastered to her purple-ish blue face with dirt and blood, matted and tangled. She wore tattered clothing that was beginning to fall off of her, the clothes too big for her body that was ravaged by hunger, the fabric of her denim jeans falling to pieces. She was sun burnt badly; the skin not bruised was angry red with blisters. She carried a camo back-pack that was filled heavy with supplies, the bag itself beginning to fray from the usage. On her left shoulder is a jet black machine gun- an AK-47 that he saw in movies about war and his dad used one, too. He could tell it was loaded, but put on safety. Then, on her right hip, is a tiny child- no bigger than one or two years. He could tell it was a baby boy, bright and happy on the girl's hip. But, the thing that she wore that confused Carl the most was a smile brighter than Georgia's sun.

"You lost?" Carl called out.

That girl- he never had seen somebody act so skittish. She turned the baby away and leveled her gun at Carl, protecting the little boy. Her eyes, a shade of green so dark they matched emeralds, turned from happy and menacing in a heartbeat. Emotions flared in her eyes as she clicked the gun's safety off, ready to shoot at Carl.

Carl held his hands in the air, his pistol tossed to the side. "It's okay. I won't hurt you." He smiled at her, nodding as to convince her. "I-I'm here to help if you want it." He watched her as she persuaded herself to lower the gun, placing the safety on before strapping it over her shoulder again, holding the baby closer to her for his protection. Carl lowered his hands, watching as she shifted about on her feet. His eyes pinpointed on her bare feet which were cut and bleeding, blackened by dirt. "How'd you get out here by yourself? Take the interstate?"

The girl scoffed. "Do I cross you as stupid or something? Only an idiot would follow that four-lane. Out there you're basically giving yourself over to those Dead-Os on a silver platter."

Carl chuckled. "You get the Dead-O thing from R.I.P.D?" He found humor in her little name for the Walkers. "That's clever."

"Yeah, I did," the girl said. She smiled at Carl, finding common ground with him. "Thought it'd be funny- well at least my folks did anyways." She adjusts the little boy on her hip, holding him close.

"Do you have a group?" Carl asked.

The girl paled. "I did. I was out with the supply team when the herd swept through. They wiped out most of the camp and the supply team. The lucky few that got away were split up, though. That was about three or four weeks ago."

Carl nodded at the baby on her hip. "Is that your brother?" The little boy had a shock of red curls that were sleek with sweat and eyes the color of silver- they twinkled brightly despite him looking rough and tired. Nonetheless he was a very happy toddler.

The girl shook her head. "It's a long story about Max."

Carl smiled lightly. "I'd like to hear that story sometime. In the meantime would you care to come back with me?" God…he couldn't leave this girl and that baby out here. He knew his mother would probably kill him if he told them he left a wandering girl and toddler. "Please, we have more than enough room." That was a lie- a BIG one. They were low on rooms and their ration situation wasn't the best. But he figured they could make it work somehow- for the girl and Max.

"Okay," she agreed.

Carl didn't know what it was, but he smiled the widest than he's ever had since the outbreak. He motioned her forwards after grabbing his gun that lay abandoned in the dirt. As she got closer Carl saw the extent of damage done to her and it made him sick. He remembered a time when he saw Sophia with bruises like hers- purple and swollen.

As they walked he looked over at the girl, placing his gun in his holster. "Hey, you never said your name."

The girl chuckled. "My name is Katherine. Katherine Yeager. Just call me Katie, though."

Carl smiled gently at Katie and Max. The whole way back to the house he had his gun drawn, not about to let anything happen to Katie or the little boy with her. He studied her all the way there, thinking she was pretty underneath all of those bruises and blisters- underneath all that dirt and blood. Katie was one of those girl's his father would have called a "southern belle." This one happened to come splattered in blood and with a baby on her hip as part of the deal.

…

Carl didn't see why they made such a ruckus over a girl of Katie's size and a boy as tiny as Max.

When they first broke the trees in the road, Katie had limped on behind him. Her feet were killing her, as she had said. From the porch they must have thought she was a Walker- a slew of bullets flew and Lori ran to get to her child. Katie had screamed, turning her back as she held tight to Max who was in tears, screaming his little lungs out. That was when they stopped firing at her. Lori had come flying down the dirt road, apologizing over and over again to Katie who was fighting tears, holding little Max who was shaking.

Then when they got to the house the situation wasn't much better. Shane had tried to rip them apart- Katie from Max. All hell break loose over that- Katie cussed, Max squalled, Lori came up with a colorful vocabulary, and Rick made threats. That caused everybody to come running to the scene- many of which weren't happy. Then Shane started with all the negatives on why everybody couldn't take these two extra mouths to feed and that started an all out war. A certain few joined Shane- Carl was certain it was Andrea and a few others, but other than that, people backed Lori up- especially Dale. After that Katie and Max was whisked away into Hershel's house for medical treatment and to get theirselves straightened out. Carl didn't see them for hours after that. As far as he knew, Patricia and Lori were clucking around them like mother hens.

Outside the debate never ended. Rick was furious with Shane; Shane was irritated with Carol; Daryl was ready to bust up some heads on Shane's side of the argument. Carl's heart dropped when Shane talked about giving Katie and Max and boot. He was wroth with everybody on Shane's side and pissed off with everything inside of him at Shane. Inside the house, upstairs, was a different story. There in the bed where Carl had laid for nearly three weeks on strict bed rest was Katie and Max. They were sound asleep next to one another; the two year old snuggled deeply into Katie's body. The two of them were bandaged up- Max having a few band-aids attached to his forehead and little legs while Katie had gauze winding around her head, stained red with blood. Cold clothes were applied to her angry red blisters, soothing them. Her legs were bound in sterile white gauze and cotton, staunching blood flow from her feet on up to her shins.

Even as she slept Katie wore that smile on her face.

Carl lounged around Katie and Max's room, silent as they slept. He stayed on Katie's side of the bed, holding her left hand. He could vaguely imagine his parents doing the same, anticipating his awakening. His heart pounded each time Katie moved or Max moved, searching for a pair of silver eyes and emerald eyes each time. There was a few times Max whimpered and tossed about; Katie had muttered rants of a boy's name- one time screamed for a woman whom Carl took as Max's mother. Once Lori rushed in- she watched in terror as Katie held Max closer, screaming at the imaginary bad guy in her head to stay away. They finally took away Max, afraid that Katie might hurt him in her night terrors. The little boy wasn't much better off as Katie was, though.

Carl sat through it all, though. He waited and waited until he finally fell asleep, hand in Katie's.

He was woken well through the night by Katie's deafening scream. He saw she had shot up in her bed, clutching his hand, her other pressed over her heart. Tears of anguish streak down her face as she regains her breath. Carl half expected her to calm down and go to sleep again, but her first question was all about Max. "Where is he? Where's Max?"

"I think that Carol or Patricia has him," Carl confessed.

Katie nodded, sniffling. She lay back against the bed after a few moments, tears rushing down her face, using the back of her not bandaged hand to wipe away the tears. The ebony haired girl looked over at Carl, nodding at him. "Hey, you're Carl, right?" She sounded weak and hoarse, much like he did when he first woke up from the gunshot wound.

Carl shook his head to confirm her question. "How are you feeling, Katie?"

"Like I've been ran over by a bus," Katie replied. The twelve year old stared at Carl, clearly pained. He could see the agony in her big emerald eyes.

Carl smiled, thinking of something to humor her. "Would you rather put up with the Walkers or the bus?" He watched as she chuckled- the littlest laugh in the world, but it was a laugh and it put a crooked smile on Katie's face.

"I'd take the bus any day," Katie answered. The emerald eyed girl evoked a laugh from Carl that caused both of the kids to start chuckling. "I'd take it one thousand times over and over." That's when they stopped laughing, knowing the meaning behind what she's saying.

A silence fell over them. It was a while before somebody came it- that woman being Carl's mother. She stood tall, leaning against the doorjamb. Carl noticed that when Katie looked at his mother, she gave a shaky smile and those emerald eyes seemed to say she was nervous and worried. "What are you guys going to do with me?"

Lori smiled down at her- a comforting smile that would have warmed the coldest person's heart. "You overheard Shane, didn't you?" Carl watched as his mother wound her hand with Katie's tiny ones. His mother had always been small- small waist; petite, slender hands; a narrow physique. Katie was the epitome of that and Carl thought that maybe that's what Lori looked like from her childhood years.

"I heard him talking with that blonde woman about 'putting me down' or some BS like that," Katie said bitterly. Carl could see in her eyes that she was pissed off to freaking high heaven.

Lori had tried to speak but Carl intervened, upset that Shane would take about popping her in the head with a bullet or something ridiculous like that. "Well Shane and Andrea are jackasses," Carl spoke, bothered with what was said.

Carl thought he'd regret his words but somehow his mother agreed with him. "Yeah, Shane and Andrea are just being jackasses." Carl shot his mother a smile that Lori quickly returned. He watched as she turned back to Katie, enclosing the girl's hand in her own. "You need anything, Katie?"

"No, but thank you Mrs. Grimes," Katie said, the smile that was on her face brighter than ever. That caused Carl to stare; he is still dumbfounded that she could smile with all she's been put through.

It was then that he realized he found what little hope there was remaining in the world. It just so happens that this hope was found walking the path to the farm barefoot, a gun slung over her shoulder, and a baby on her hip- and her name was Katie.


	2. Saving Grace

**Chapter 2: Saving Grace**

* * *

_**Carl woke just as the sun started showing signs of coming up and over the horizon. **_

Usually Carl was the last one to get up. Normally he slept like a log until he was shaken awake by one of his parents, telling him to change and come over where the group would be eating their breakfast before starting their chores for the day. Now, instead of being welcomed by his parents he's welcomed by the sound of tweeting birds and a sunrise, the coolness of the Georgia morning drawing him out of his tent. He expected that maybe the Greene family would be awake- that maybe he'd see Maggie walking about or see Beth and Hershel on the porch reading the Bible and praying, but it was all too quiet. His home in King County was partially quiet, since it was a tight little community of about a thousand or so. But the county's silence was ominous to him.

Carl walked silently across the property, those clear blue eyes of his scouting out the place. He didn't want to stray far, afraid that his parents would worry about him when they woke and found him gone and went looking. He walked back to the water-pump, spotting a girl with long ebony curls and tanned skin sitting on a bench. She was laughing, her emerald eyes shining brightly as she poured some laundry detergent into a water basin, taking a small shirt meant for a toddler to wash. On the ground next to the basin is a boy with red hair that curled atop his head, giggling around a pacifier as he built a tower of blocks before he demanded the girl to knock them down with her boot-clad foot. Those two children, Carl recognized, were Katherine and Max.

"Aren't you supposed to be on bed rest?" Carl asked. He called Katie and Max's attention easy, the two of them stopping what they're doing to look at the boy.

Carl expected Katie to say nothing, but to go about her business. A questioning smile worked its way onto her face, her emerald eyes shining brightly. "Yeah, I am. But who said I had to listen?" She began scrubbing the shirt, working out the dirt in it, making sure that every inch of it was clean before submerging it back into the water again for a second washing. "I'm not laying myself up in that damn room when I can be somewhat productive."

Listening at her, Carl knew he liked her for some odd reason. Guess it was her ambition and her attitude. "So you'd prefer to be out here working yourself to death when you could be inside drinking lemonade with Hershel?"

"Exactly," Katie said simply. "I've never liked being coddled." She wrinkles her nose at the thought before scrubbing the shirt once more. "If I can walk on both my legs and get away with some light work behind Hershel's back I sure as hell am goin' to do it." Katie holds up Max's shirt, a smirk of triumph having washed away all of the grime. Carl gave her a quizzical look but walked over, making a gesture to the bench where Katie sat.

"Mind if I…uh…ya' know…help?" Carl asks. He wasn't sure whether it is himself just wanting to give the young girl some help. He didn't know whether he was aching for human interaction or what. He only knew that the need to be around somebody his age- to know what he went through and how he played it though his thoughts and processed it. He wanted somebody like him to understand him and him to understand them. He wanted somebody to talk to when the adults would push him out of their conversations. Said he was too little or some crap like that. Nobody would listen to him- his thoughts and worries were pushed back, leaving almost everybody else with a little more leeway.

Katie scoots over, making room for Carl. "That'd be nice." Carl felt the tips of his ears redden, the back of his neck consumed by the heat of a blush. _I'd drop dead right here if she saw me blushing…_Carl thought, picking up one of Katie's shirts to begin scrubbing. His eyes fell on the shirt, studying it over. It was white with a few rips and the hem was beginning to fray. It had the words, _"Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver." _He chuckled a bit, but his laugh was cut off by the grime and the dried blood on the shirt. It was covered in some other substance that he fingered and before he plunged it into the soapy water, scrubbing it until the water turned a murky red color mixed with brown.

"Where'd you come from?" Carl asks out of the deep blue. He looks over at Katie who tosses another clean shirt of Max's into the clean clothes basket.

"I'm from Tennessee," Katie answers, her emerald eyes landing on Carl. She takes a pair of jeans that look fairly decent, plunging them into the water to scrub them.

"Which town? Rockytop?" Carl asks, smirking.

Katie hits him with the wet jeans, splattering water everywhere. "Asshole," Katie says, laughing loudly. "I'm from Nashville, Tennessee." Katie falls silent for a few moments until she looks over at Carl, giving him a look. "And no, if you're getting to that if I was trying to be like Taylor Swift or anybody else you're dead wrong, sweetheart."

Carl offers a smile to the young girl who simply smiles back, diverting her gaze to Max who stands up. Carl watches, too, having not seen a baby since his Uncle Jack had his little boy a few years back. He remembered the little boy's tiny toes and the wisps of fine blonde hair atop his head. Max was exactly like that with his chubby toddler legs and his fine red curls. "If you're from Tennessee, how'd you get all the way down here in Georgia?"

"Remember the group I told you about? Well before some other crap went down my parent's managed to get me and my brothers to West Virginia. My mother- she was awfully sick. Food poisoning or some shit. We found this group- nice people with good morals. They took us in, nursed us back to health. Well, they did for my father and me and Adam and Christopher who were well worn out and starving. My mother died within the week of us getting there," Katie says painfully. Her emerald eyes flicker towards Max who sits in front of herself and Carl, watching the boy pick up a toy air plane. "Dad and Adam and I buried her away from everybody- dug up her grave and made a grave stone made of rocks with her name written on a wooden plank in Sharpie Marker…

I'll never forget what happens next, though... I remember the smell of rotting flesh and her decaying body. I remember her cold skin- colder than any ice I've ever felt…colder than a winter's night. Adam and I were lowering her upper body into the ground and we saw her stir. It was the tiniest movement I've ever seen, but it made the biggest impact on me. Her eyes snapped open- I thought I'd see eyes like sunshine but instead I saw glazed white. She snapped at us- _clawed _at me with her yellow finger nails. Adam and I dropped her into her grave, too shocked to scream. My dad stared at her, dumbfounded. It wasn't until she swiped at him did he move. I was too shocked to even pull out my knife when I saw what was on her back- _it was a damn Dead-O bite. _She tried to climb up out of her grave, raking her nails across the forest floor. Dad popped her, though. All three of us were splattered in blood. Not a word was said- I was handed a shovel and I was told to start filling in dirt. It seemed like ages to fill up the hole, watching as the dirt mixed with Mom's blood and turned into a sloshy mess until we covered her body. Then, I remember maybe three weeks later Dad went on a run. Only five came back- my father wasn't one of them."

Carl watches as the tears streak down her face, her emerald eyes clouded by tears. He knows what she feels like as far as thinking his father was dead for that long agonizing month. Anything else he's never experienced- starvation, dehydration…losing both parents. Losing everything you've ever known. Sure, he lost a lot after the Walkers sprung up, but he has never really lost what is dear to him. "What about Adam and Christopher?"

Katie shrugs. "I don't know. After the Dead-O herd swept through they were missing. The last thing I found that belonged to them was Christopher's baby blanket and Adam's favorite book. I hope they're alive…but if they've fallen, I hope it's by God's grace they they're dead…not like the walking dead, but a peaceful kind of death."

"I can understand," Carl whispers. He reaches out drying away a crystal tear that has fallen down Katie's pale face. He watches as Katie's emerald eyes shoot up and he almost regrets making that action, but he settles down when Katie offers him a shaky smile and accepts the gesture. "How'd you come across Max, then?"

Katie frowns and Carl watches as she looks at the little boy who toddles around on his sneak-clad feet. She smiles a gentle smile, watching the young boy. Carl could deeply tell that Katie was fond of the little boy with her actions and the mother-like instincts. "I was in the northern part of Georgia passing through this little town. It was quiet for the most part and I decided I'd sleep in a house because it was getting late and I've too many encounters with Walkers in the late hours of the night. I went into the first house I saw- unlocked the door with a credit card or something like that. The house was trashed- furniture was turned over, glass was shattered, and there was blood splattered everywhere.

Bodies were lying in blood- the kitchen was its own swimming pool in their blood. The smell- oh dear God… I threw up time and time again, the smell of rotting flesh filling the air. I remember looking at the bright yellow walls of the kitchen only to see that the pictures had been cleared and letters had been written by a shaky hand that once held a paint brush. _"All hope is gone," _was written in blood on the walls, smeared and dried to a black crust. I tore through the house, checking every crook and cranny for the Dead-Os. I never was so terrified, walking through that house. I remember I was scavenging the kitchen for food and medicine, because I was getting a bit under the weather. I was raiding the pantry and I was like a mad person, grabbing cans and all. I knocked over a jar- an empty one at that. Then I heard a cry- the tiniest sound in the world. Soft and sweet and innocent… I loaded my gun and traveled down into the basement, because I didn't look there because I didn't need anything from there. There was a woman sitting in the middle of the floor. She was beautiful- chestnut ringlets that fell down her back and big grey eyes. She was covered in blood- it splattered her face and was all down the front of her shirt. That woman was propped up against a wall, labored breathing and crying. Sweat poured down her face in rivets. On her shoulder was gaping wound, clearly bit off of by a Walker.

I felt bad that she was bitten, but what scared me most was that there was a baby in her arms, crying out because the two of them heard me bustling about upstairs. That woman, oh dear God… She looked up at me and began sobbing. _**'Take him,' **_she sobbed. She held the baby out to me. He was little- not even two years old yet. _**'When I die-when I come back, I don't want to hurt him. Take him so I don't hurt him, please.' **_

I didn't know what else to say. I felt hot tears gush down my face. _**'Please. I don't want my son to die like me.' **_That woman…she motioned me forwards and I complied. I bent down in front of her and she held a hand to my face. I didn't care whether she got blood on me. _**'You look like a responsible girl. You look wise beyond your years and you look strong and kind and careful. I trust you…' **_She smiled at me as I began to sob and I took her son from her with shaky arms. I held that little boy tight in one arm and with the other I held her hand tight with mine.

'_**I can see the love in your eyes,' **_she said as she settled back against the wall. _**'You'll make sure he's safe. He'll have everything from you- a sister, a friend, a protector, a mother…' **_She held my hand tightly, squeezing it. _**'What's your name, sweet girl?'**_

'_Katherine,' _I whispered as I looked at the woman.

'_**Katherine, take care of him. Please, that being my dying wish and I have one more thing to ask of you before my time runs out…" **_I stared at her, nodding feverishly. _**'When I die, make sure I don't come back as one of them.' **_I only smiled at her, no words being said as I held her son in my arms. I remember sitting down there for two more hours as the infection began taking effect. Labored breathing and a shaky voice, she thanked me and ran her fingers through her son's red hair. Thirty minutes later we squeezed each other's hands with all our might and she whispered a name under her breath and a word of thanks. She gazed into my eyes and as she began losing the fight, I laid her back against the floor with the extra baby blanket that was with her son over her chest. Ten minutes later she stopped breathing and her heart stopped.

I took my knife out of my pocket and turned her head to the side. Her son was starting to sit and I thought his eyes were open. I turned his head so it was hid in my chest, afraid he'd see what would happen to his mother. I pressed to tip of my knife just behind her ear and I heard the sickly soft sound of the knife sinking into the dead woman's skull. I hurried myself upstairs and I shut the basement door, all the while holding her son. I looked down at him and he looked up at me. Big grey eyes bored into green ones… I couldn't understand the name she said when she whispered her son's name, but it started with an M. Since I was staying in that house that night I went upstairs and I found that it actually was her house- everything upstairs had been made so that people would think the house was already ransacked. I sat in her baby's nursery that was made to look like a disaster zone. I found stuff like clothes and what not. I remember that next to the rocking chair was a basket of books and I picked one randomly. It was about two bunnies named 'Max and Ruby.' I read it to him to see if he'd calm down and eventually he did. I didn't know what to call him- I read him book after book. There were all kinds of names with the letter M- Michael, Matthew, Moses, Micah, Mason, and Monroe...etcetera. But I couldn't get over Max, so that night, I named him Maxwell. He's kept me from doing a lot of stupid stuff. Stuff that would have gotten the both of us killed… He's my saving grace in a way."

Carl was in tears at the story, not realizing that she too was beginning to bawl. Max was in her arms, patting her cheeks and all. _Maybe you can be my saving grace, too, Katie, _Carl thought. It was a while until they could talk again and they were fine again. They sat by one another and washed laundry and played with Max. The silence was sweet.

"Mornin' Carl," the voice belonged to none other than the former sheriff deputy Rick Grimes. The two kids turned their heads to see Rick standing tall in the morning sun that has began to beat down on them, wearing his sheriff's uniform- hat and all. "And a very special hello and a good mornin' to you, Katherine." Carl chuckles when Rick tips his hat at Katie and the little girl smiles brightly.

"Call me Katie, sir," Katie says, tossing the final article of clothing into the clean clothes basket that needs to be hung to dry.

Rick laughs. "Call me Rick. I've never taken well to all that formal mumbo-jumbo." Carl watches as his father and Katie shares words. He smiles, the two taking together quickly. Carl thought a lot of Katie already and he thought even more of her that his father seemed to like her a lot…maybe more than what everybody else did. Carl knew for a fact that Shane was her least favorite fan. "Umm…didn't Hershel sentence you to bed rest?"

Katie grins. "You make it sound like Mr. Greene's my jailor or something. But alas, he did assign me to bed rest. But I believe as long as I have two legs that work I should at least do something productive."

Carl watches as Rick begins to laugh. His father walks over to assist Katie, picking up her laundry basket of sopping wet clothing. "Well, Katie, how about you join us for breakfast then I'll have one of mine to help you hang yours and little man's laundry?"

"Sounds like a plan," Katie says. She kneels down to grab Max and she motions to Carl after placing Max on her hip.

Carl smiles proudly, walking along side Katie and her toddler counterpart. Carl watched as Katie created small talk with his father, the two of them later talking up a storm as they walked to the little camp that was beginning to awaken. People were crawling from tents, stretching and yawning. Carl noticed Carol was making scrambled eggs and sausage, the woman clearly still tired. He couldn't argue- days now were often spent being tired and paranoid.

Carl rushes to meet up with his mother. He turns his head, though, to see Katie and his father laughing like they've been friends for a lifetime. He can hear her cracking jokes and talking about how her stomach was finding her heart pretty delicious or something along those lines. He hasn't seen his dad laugh like that in a while and clearly Katie was the key to this suffering. The dismal air that hung around the farm felt as though it was beginning to lift with Katie's presence.

All eyes fell on Katie and Max. Carl wasn't sure how to describe the atmosphere- maybe it was the shock of seeing them up and running after days on the road and the way they carried about after all the tragedy they went through. Carl thought about Katie- how she smiled when her parents died within just a mere three weeks of each other and the month that passed that the Walkers raided her camp and her brothers were gone. That was some rough stuff but she kept her head up for the future and a positive outlook for Max. There was no way he could do what she does…let alone have the will to live.

"I'm sure everybody knows our two friends well," Rick says. "But I believe after early yesterday that several of everybody got off onto the wrong foot with these two- especially Kathy." Carl watches as his father stifles a chuckle at Katie's facial expression.

Katie coughs. "Where did Kathy come from, Rick?"

Rick rolls his eyes. "You kids and your damn fangled new names… Kathy and Katherine were popular names when I was a boy. Katherine was going to be Carl's name if he was a girl."

Katie stifles a laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Okay there Mr. Old Fashioned, you can call me Kathy." Carl glares at her when she mouths, _"Could've been Katherine," _to him and he almost breaks out into hysterical laughter when she begins to laugh.

"Anyways, this is Katherine and Max. Treat them with respect and they'll surely treat you with it, too," Rick says. "They'll be joining us for breakfast this morning."

"Like hell the bitch and her bastard is," Shane announces. "We need to save the rations for _our _group."

There was a voice that speaks up before Rick can utter what he wants to. It's loud and clear- menacing, almost. It was none other than Daryl Dixon, grabbing Shane by the back of his shirt. "Well, smartass, that bitch and her bastard will be eating with us." Daryl nods at Katie who nods, too. Judging by the way they looked at one another they understood the little action.

"Little girl and the peanut," Daryl says. "Sit down on this 'ere log and they get first serving. Any shit from anybody gets my foot in their ass." With that the red neck was gone, leaving Katie almost choking because she was trying so hard not to laugh and Shane was steaming.

As Katie walked forwards Shane stalks off, still clearly not liking the little dark haired girl. Carl and Lori had to almost physically make her sit down because she began to hesitate. After that she was fine, talking up a storm with Carol, Carl, and Lori. It was clear they enjoyed her company because of the stories she told- various stories of hunting accidents were included around a mouthful of eggs. That morning Katie stomped around the breakfast-fire, imitating a bear that climbed into her father's truck and ate all of their goodies while on a camping trip. She described in vivid detail the day her and her twin brother Adam were having an Air Soft War in the woods and she had to pee and wiped herself with poison ivy.

Carl took notice that she had people rolling- he could hear Daryl laughing out in the field where he was hunting gophers. Even Andrea, the girl who didn't like Katie, was laughing so hard tears were rolling down her face. He never seen anything like it in all his life, that little comedian Katie is.

Carl had put down his plate of eggs after a near-choking experience. He watches as Katie continues talking, helping Max eat his helping of eggs and ripping off pieces of sausage. She was still causing laughter amongst the crowd of people, pointing out details and all.

He decided then that he couldn't let anything ever happen to her. Katherine would be vital to their survival- he knew dark, gloomy days would be ahead when people were sad and slipping away. He knew Katherine could fix that. She'd be their saving grace.


End file.
